Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio
Story 3
The Painted Wall
By Pu Songling
Translated by
Herbert A. Giles
Transcribed from the 1908 Second Edition
Prepared for Electronic Transmission with an Introduction by
TK Rolland
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 TK Rolland
Cover photograph by John Zhang
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher. All inquiries should be addressed to broomhandlebooks@gmail.com
INTRODUCTION
Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, known in China as the Liao Zhai Zhi Yi, was a volume of stories completed in 1679, but circulated in manuscript only until printed and published in 1740. Since then many editions have appeared in Chinese and many translations have been made into foreign languages.
The dates of birth or death for Pu Songling are unknown, but it is known that he reached the lowest (or bachelor’s) degree before age twenty. In 1651, ten years or so after his graduation, he had not progressed to an advanced degree. While unfortunate he did not personally progress in his academic standing, Pu Songling left a cherished manuscript, which for more than 300 years has gained him an enduring place in Chinese literature.
This Smashwords edition was transcribed from the 1908 Second Edition of a translation by Herbert A. Giles, originally published by Kelly & Walsh, Limited with offices in Shanghai, Hong Kong, Singapore and Yokohama. My own personal copy of this edition contains a note of ownership penned by Geo. Dorsey, Shanghai, May, 1911. I am grateful to Mr. Dorsey for keeping his volume so beautifully protected and intact. Besides preparing these stories for electronic transmission, I have attempted to edit them with a more modern format, including punctuation and styling, to make them accessible to today’s readers. In addition, I have rendered Chinese personal and place names into modern pinyin.
The 1908 edition of Herbert A. Giles translation contains a scholarly introduction detailing what little is known of Pu Songling. It contains even a translation of a personal document left behind by Pu. Along with copious footnotes and annotations, Giles included the document in order to provide an insight into the beautiful style of a gifted writer.
By choosing to publish one story at a time, Broomhandle Books hopes to accommodate readers in downloading particular titles of interest, thus saving them the trouble of moving through a large and unwieldy electronic document. The goal, however, is to complete transcription of the individual stories, add a linkable table of contents, and then group them into larger segments for downloading.
If the contents of Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio intrigue you, obtaining a hard copy of the 1908 Second Edition is worth the cost. That edition contains much information not provided in this transcription. Herbert A. Giles’s valuable scholarship can be found not only in the introduction to that edition, but also in the footnotes and annotations that bring some of the book’s more difficult to understand literary allusions to life.
Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio
Story 3
THE PAINTED WALL
A Jiangxi gentleman, named Meng Longtan, was lodging at the capital with a Mr. Zhu, M.A., when one day chance led them to a certain monastery, within which they found no spacious halls or meditation chambers, but only an old priest in déshabillé. On observing the visitors, he arranged his dress and went forward to meet them, leading them round and showing whatever there was to be seen
In the chapel they saw an image of Zhi Gong, and the walls on either side were beautifully painted with life-like representations of men and animals. On the east side were pictured a number of fairies, among whom was a young girl whose maiden tresses were not yet confined by the matron’s knot. She was picking flowers and gently smiling, while her cherry lips seemed about to move, and the moisture of her eyes to overflow. Mr. Zhu gazed at her for a long time without taking his eyes off, until at last he became unconscious of anything but the thoughts that were engrossing him. Then, suddenly, he felt himself floating in the air, as if riding on a cloud, and found himself passing through the wall, where halls and pavilions stretched away one after another, unlike the abodes of mortals. Here an old priest was preaching the Law of Buddha, surrounded by a large crowd of listeners.
Mr. Zhu mingled with the throng and after a few moments perceived a gentle tug at his sleeve. Turning round, he saw the young girl above-mentioned, who walked laughing away. Mr. Zhu at once followed her, and passing a winding balustrade arrived at a small apartment beyond which he dared not venture farther. But the young lady, looking back, waved the flowers she had in her hand as though beckoning him to come on. He accordingly entered and found nobody else within. Then they fell on their knees and worshipped heaven and earth together, and rose up as man and wife, after which the bride went away, bidding Mr. Zhu keep quiet until she came back.
This went one for a couple of days, when the young lady’s companions began to smell a rat and discovered Mr. Zhu’s hiding place. Thereupon they all laughed and said, “My dear, you are now a married woman, and should leave off that maidenly coiffure.”
So they gave her the proper hair-pins and head ornaments, and bade her go bind her hair, at which she blushed very much but said nothing. Then one of them cried out, “My sisters, let us be off. Two’s company, more’s none.” At this they all giggled again and went away.
Mr. Zhu found his wife very much improved by the alteration in the style of her hair. The high top-knot and the coronet of pendants were very becoming to her. But suddenly they heard a sound like the tramping of heavy-soled boots, accompanied by the clanking of chains and the noise of angry discussion. The bride jumped up in a fright, and she and Mr. Zhu peeped out. They saw a man clad in golden armor, with a face as black as jet, carrying in his hands chains and whips, and surrounded by all the girls. He asked, “Are you all here?”
“All,” they replied.
“If,” said he, “any mortal is here concealed amongst you, denounce him at once, and lay not up sorrow for yourselves.”
Here they all answered as before that there was no one.
The man then made a movement as if he would search the place, upon which the bride was dreadfully alarmed, and her face turned the color of ashes. In her terror she said to Mr. Zhu, “Hide yourself under the bed,” and opening a small lattice in the wall, disappeared herself.
Mr. Zhu in his concealment hardly dared to draw his breath; and in a little while he heard the boots tramp into the room and out again, the sound of the voices getting gradually fainter and fainter in the distance. This reassured him, but he still heard the voices of people going backwards and forwards outside; and having been a long time in a cramped position, his ears began to sing as if there was a locust in them, and his eyes to burn like fire. It was almost unbearable; however, he remained quietly awaiting the return of the young lady without giving a thought to the why and wherefore of his present position.
Meanwhile, Meng Longtan had noticed the sudden disappearance of his friend, and thinking something was wrong, asked the priest where he was.
“He has gone to hear the preaching of the Law,” replied the priest.
“Where?” asked Mr. Meng.
“Oh, not very far,” was the answer.
Then with his finger the old priest tapped the wall and called out, “Friend Zhu! What makes you stay away so long?”
At this, the likeness of Mr. Zhu was figured upon the wall, with his ear inclined in the attitude of one listening.
The priest added, “Your friend here has been waiting for you some time;” and immediately Mr. Zhu descended from the wall, standing transfixed like a block of wood, with starting eye-balls and trembling legs.
Mr. Meng was much terrified, and asked him quietly what was the matter. Now the matter was that while concealed under the bed he had heard a noise resembling thunder and had rushed out to see what it was.
Here they all noticed that the young lady on the wall with the maiden’s tresses had changed the style of her coiffure to that of a married woman. Mr. Zhu was greatly astonished at this and asked the old priest the reason.
He replied, “Visions have their origin in those who see them: what explanation can I give?” This answer was very unsatisfactory to Mr. Zhu; neither did his friend, who was rather frightened, know what to make of it all; so they descended the temple steps and went away.